Merlin's POV

I arrive to find a crumbled wall and a mass of red clad knights streaming in, their boots crunching on the fresh snow layered on the grass. White stone litters the ground around my feet along with numerous bodies of fellow brothers in arms. I scan the area, trying to calculate the number of enemies to no avail, there are just too many. We are outnumbered, but not by much. We can hold off.

I pull my sword from its sheath and charge into battle alongside my friends. A Camelot knight races towards me as I approach, his sword raised and mouth open in a yell. I watch the way he brings his arm back, anticipating the move before he makes it. He thrusts forward, movements sluggish. I parry it easily before thrusting my own sword forward through the chinks in the man's armour. He slumps forward and collapses to the ground.

I pull the sword from the man's chest in time to block a blow from another knight. Our blades lock. Leaving us in a struggle for control. I chant a quick spell under my breath, letting my magic do the work. The man is hurtled through the air, flying backwards until his back hits the wall.

I spin on my heel, glancing around at the battlefield. I see Lancelot a short distance away, taking down knights left and right. Then, there's Gwaine, who seems to be struggling in a fight against a rather large man in a sleeveless chainmail. My eyes narrow at the man, recognizing his face. I met him twice before, in Camelot. His name was... Percival. A friend of Arthur's was he not?

Oh no.

Arthur.

If Camelot is attacking then does that mean he's here? Fighting with the other knights? Panic starts to flood my mind. Ways that Arthur could potentially die start to crawl their way into my head. My thoughts are interrupted by a sword swinging towards me. I duck swiftly, just narrowly missing the edge of the blade. I turn around to engage my assailant and come face to face with another familiar man. This was also one of Arthur's friends. Elyan.

His expression changes into one of recognition as our eyes lock. He freezes for a moment before his gaze hardens again. "So, you were a sorcerer," he says, voice dripping with anger, "why did you save us? To sneak your way into Camelot?"

I back away as he inches closer. I shake my head at him. "I had no ulterior motives. I only wished to help," I say.

"Lies! Were you the one who sent those black knights as well?"

"What?! Of course not!"

"Speak no more. I do not wish to listen to your lies!"

Elyan thrusts his blade at my chest. I dodge the blow and counter with a thrust of my own. He deflects my strike with the flat of his blade before quickly slashing down with his own sword. I sidestep, but still manage to get a small graze on my shoulder from his sword. He's better than the other Camelot knights. His blows are a lot stronger, more fierce. His movements are fast, but, unfortunately, not fast enough. Elyan aims for another strike, this time, across my chest. I wait till the last moment before dodging the blow. His sword hits empty air, leaving him little time to recover. I aim a thrust to his left side, purposefully making my movements slow as to give him time to block before turning my thrust into a feint. I slash, instead, to his right. My sword connects with his side. He cries out in pain before collapsing to his knees in front of me, hands holding tight to his side.

I leave him there, wounded in the snow. I had made sure the blow wouldn't be fatal, he's Arthur's friend. I can't kill him.

I turn to see the rest of the fight. The numbers of the Camelot knights seem to be dwindling. Now, we out number them. Gwaine still seems to be fighting the large man, Percival. Lancelot had just pulled his sword from another of the red clad knights before I approach him.

"Merlin," he says when he notices my presence, "you shouldn't be-"

"Please, spare me the lecture. I already got it from Gwaine. Do you think you can take care of things here? I need to go find my father," I ask.

Lancelot looks at me with concern before nodding his head. "Of course. I can handle things here. If more Camelot knights show then I'll order the men to retreat."

"Thank you."

He smiles. "No worries. Be careful. Don't over work yourself."

"I know."

I turn my back on him and dash back into the citadel.

------

I sprint down the halls as fast as I can, heading towards the main council room in hopes of finding my father. I stop just outside the small side door that leads into the chamber. I'm about to enter when a scream rips through the air. My hand stops an inch from the door handle. I hear a loud thump of something falling to the floor. A body. Shivers run down my spine, my blood runs cold because I recognize that voice. It was a voice that was usually calm and collected. One that would never be raised even in the most dire of situations. The scream belonged to my mother.

I throw open the door, sword in hand, and rush in, examining the room for any signs of danger. I stop in my tracks the moment I see the sight before me. My grip loosens around the hilt of my sword, letting it slip from my grasp and clatter onto the stone, breaking the silence. All heads turn to me but I pay them no mind. All I can focus on are the two bodies collapsed on the floor, blood pooling around them.

Father....

Mother...

I hardly realize that I said the words aloud. Pain and grief wound tightly into each word. Only one thing keeps me standing. One thing keeps my legs from buckling under the weight of my whole world crashing down onto my shoulders and it's anger. Rage.

Betrayal.

My gaze hardens at the lone figure that hovers over the bodies of my parents, a bloody sword in his hand.

I trusted him.

I loved him.

But that's all gone now. All the love and warmth I felt when I was with him gone in an instant. Something dark and ugly pulses in my chest, spreading from a hollow pit where my heart used to be.

-----

Arthur's POV

I stop in front of the two bodies collapsed in front of me, eyes wide in shock and guilt. I couldn't save them in time. I was too slow.

I clench tightly at the sword in my hand and immediately whirl on my father who has already cleaned off his blade and sheathed it in his belt. No guilt or remorse written anywhere on his face. His eyes soften when they meet mine. "How are you feeling, Arthur? Has the enchantment worn off?" he asks, hand on my shoulder.

I try my best to keep the anger from showing on my face. No good will come from shouting at him, there will only be more bloodshed if I do. I'm about to give him my response when a loud clatter rings out behind me. I turn and come face to face with Merlin.

My mind swirls in a panic. Why is Merlin here? He-he can't-

"Father... Mother..." I hear him say, voice broken.

Father? Mother? No. I look down towards the man and woman at my feet. They couldn't have- they couldn't have been Merlin's parents. Could they? He-he's their son? The guilt in my chest grows even more. This is all my fault...

I look towards Merlin. His eyes are wide. The pupils blown to the point where you can almost no longer see his blue irises. His hands are trembling. A sword lays abandoned by his feet.

I want to approach him. To wrap my arms around him and tell him I'm sorry I couldn't save them. That it was my fault that this happened, but I can't do anything. Not with my father standing right behind me. He would kill Merlin without question. In order to protect him, I stay put. I don't move. I don't say anything.

Merlin's gaze shifts from the dead couple at my feet towards me. He seems to finally register my presence. His eyes soften just a little, filling with love. His gaze shifts after, moving to look at something lower. His eyes suddenly widens even more. His hands stop trembling, instead, they ball into fists at his side. He slowly brings his gaze up towards me again, except this time, the love is gone. All I see is anger. Hatred. A vicious gleam in his eyes that doesn't match his usual, cheerful, demeanor.

His stare catches me off guard, making me freeze in place. I can feel sweat rolling down the back of my neck from nervousness at being on the receiving end of his hateful glare. I swallow the lump in my throat, unsure of what to do. Why is he glaring at me like-

My heart stops. I look down at the bloodied blade in my hand then at the corpses lying on the floor before me. I put two and two together, realizing the conclusion that Merlin has come up with in his head at the scene laid out before his eyes.

He thinks I killed them. He thinks I killed his parents.

The thought of losing Merlin makes me drop the sword in my hand, ignoring the fact that my father was right behind me.

"Mer-"

"Shut up," he growls. His voice is dangerously low.

"Just let me-"

"I said shut up!"

His eyes glow a bright gold, causing me to be thrown back against the wall. My head cracks against the stone before sliding to the floor. I can just vaguely hear my father shout in worry before unsheathing his sword. Black spots dance across my vision, threatening to plunge me into darkness but I hold on. I stagger to my feet, taking deep breaths in order to quench the blackness looming over my eyes. When the spots clear I look up to see my father with sword at the ready and a ring of knights surrounding him with swords out.

No fear shows in Merlin's eyes. He doesn't seem to even register my father within his sights. He continues to stare me down, eyes narrowing when he sees me stand. I watch him lift a hand in my direction, ready to cast another spell but my father interrupts him.

"How dare you attack my son!" he yells loudly.

Merlin freezes, lowering his arm. He turns his head slowly towards my father, eyes narrowing further at the king. "What did you say?" He says in the same low tone.

"I said, how dare you attack my son! I am the king of Camelot, Uther Pendragon, and I will send you to the chopping block for such an act!"

I look to Merlin nervously and, for the first time today, I'm afraid. His assumption about his parents death can be explained. There was a chance that he would believe me after giving him time to calm down but this? Having my father shout to the world that I am his son? This cannot be explained. He would never believe me now. No matter what I say.

He would never believe Arthur Pendragon.

------

Merlin's POV

'My son.'

Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot, called Arthur his son.

Arthur is the Prince of Camelot.

I feel my shoulders start to shake. A laugh suddenly erupts from my throat, scaring many of the knights and the two royals before me.

How could I be so stupid? How did I not see this earlier? The Prince of Camelot is named Arthur. Though it is not an uncommon name I should have been able to put this together. A knight from Camelot, named Arthur, who loves the king and is able to enter his royal chambers without raising any questions. A man who despises magic.

Arthur is Arthur Pendragon. How could I have not figured it out sooner?

My shoulders start to shake even more. My magic churns under my skin, threatening to break free and wreak havoc. I let it.

-----

Arthur's POV

I feel the ground begin to shake around me. Dust and small bits of debris begin to fall from the ceiling of the council chambers. Jagged cracks begin to form along the stone floor, slowly creeping its way up the walls and roof. I grip onto the window sill beside me as the tremors become more violent. My father and the rest of the knights grab onto the chairs surrounding the table. Merlin remains still. His eyes flaring with a newfound rage as his magic runs amok. He continues to keep his gaze fixated on me as the whole world trembles around him. A large chunk of the ceiling collapses. It lands on the floors in front of us with a loud thud, sending a plume of dust up into the air.

We need to get out of here. Merlin's going to collapse the roof on us if we don't leave.

I stand up straighter, still holding onto the ledge to keep my balance. I look towards the door. The exit is clear. I only hope Merlin doesn't give chase. I turn towards my father and start to call out to him, "We need to get out of here. We can't beat him, no matter how hard we try!"

My father turns to look at me, seeing the reasons in my words and nods. He shoots one last glare towards Merlin before rising and bolting towards the door with his knights. Merlin doesn't move. He doesn't turn to look at the fleeing men. He keeps his eyes on me. The hatred is clear in them. It hurts to know that stare is directed towards me. All the love and happiness that used to fill those irises, gone. Gone because of me. If I had done what the Disir said, would everything have turned out fine? Would Merlin not be in pain? Would he have been happy?

A large fissure begins to appear along the floor. I stagger backwards and I can hear my father's urgent shouts from the door. I turn to run towards them. I can feel Merlin's gaze trail me, but again, he doesn't move. He makes no attempt to stop me from escaping.

My father and the rest of the knights sprint down the hall once I reach the door safely, but I don't. Not yet. I instead, stop and turn to look at Merlin once again. The ground has stopped shaking. I can no longer feel his stare boring into my back. He's crouched low now on the ground. Eyes cast down at the two corpses in front of him. A tear glistens at the corner of his eyes but they don't fall.

"Arthur," Leon calls out to me. He's waiting half way down the hall. Concern is evident on his features.

"I'm coming," I say.

I tear my eyes away from Merlin. As much as I want to stay with him, to be there to reassure him. I know I can't, not anymore. I lost that right to stay by his side. I could have prevented all this if I hadn't been so selfish. If I hadn't asked Merlin to save my father's life that day, then none of this would have happened. I head down the hall after Leon, leaving Merlin to mourn alone.